


From The Ashes

by AnnaMorgan



Category: Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drama, F/M, Loki Redemption, Nightmares, Torture, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:37:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaMorgan/pseuds/AnnaMorgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Have you ever considered that destruction could be another form of creation?” she asked thoughtfully. Loki turned his gaze from the dark Manhattan skyline to face her sharply. “Sometimes you have to kind of die inside in order to rise from your own ashes and believe in yourself, and love yourself to become a new person.” </p><p>Loki receives his punishment on Asgard only to find himself in the cruel hands of the Chitauri as his heart and mind battle between redemption and being lost to the dark side. When Thanos proceeds with his plot to sacrifice the universe to Death, Loki must choose what side he is on. Can the God of Mischief overcome his inner demons to find his own salvation? Loki/Natasha</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 Back to Asgard

Loki was standing in the first floor lobby of the Avengers tower, facing out into the destroyed streets. From where he was, he could see the rubble of fallen buildings and cars upturned, evidence of the chaos that had ended merely a day ago. Smoking debris littered the ground still smoldering as crews ran about clearing up the mess. Surrounding him were the Avengers, dressed in normal Midgardian attire now and absent of their weapons. Their faces were smug as they watched him being chained up, their first victory as a team fresh in their minds, and having returned from what he had assumed to be their victory celebration.

Loki had never felt so angry and humiliated. He had been on the brink of triumph - Midgard’s “mightiest heroes” divided, the formidable Chitauri forces at his command, his plan perfectly executed- and it had been snatched away from him by none other than these creatures that he had deemed as being beneath him, these Avengers. He saw them as nothing more than misguided outcasts among the mortals, creatures whose powers were far inferior to his own, yet they had been able to defeat him with the Chitauri army at his disposal. And worse, Thor had been there to witness and take part in it all. As the man he had formerly called his brother determinedly shackled his limbs and placed the muzzle around his mouth, Loki could not help but feel a fresh wave of jealous distain toward him, toward the entire situation. 

Thor stood directly in front of Loki, pointedly avoided looking him in the eye as he checked the shackles and muzzle to ensure that they could not be removed. When he was satisfied that they were secure, he turned to Captain America.

“I would like a word with my brother in private before we depart,” Thor said, his voice full of authority. Loki couldn’t help but think that he sounded like a king dismissing his guards. 

The Captain understood and nodded to the rest of the team to follow him. As the Avengers left the lobby for the streets of downtown Manhattan, Tony could be heard muttering something about “not much of a conversation with one person muzzled.” Thor turned to face his brother once again, this time with Loki actively avoiding Thor’s gaze. 

“Loki,” he started with the same authoritative tone he had with the Captain though somewhat softer, “I wish you to know that despite all you have done, to me, to our family, to Midgard, I still regard you as my brother, and I will ensure that you will be treated fairly when you are brought before our father.” 

'Your father' Loki thought viciously. He brought his eyes up to look at Thor with distain. He was not looking forward to facing the All-Father. 

“I may be able to influence father’s decision on your punishment, but I will not be able to change his mind about it, once it has been made up. Do you understand?” 

Loki continued to glare at him. Taking his brother’s unwavering stance as a “yes,” Thor placed a hand on Loki’s arm and led him outside. 

The others were waiting for them by Tony’s car along with Dr. Selvig, who possessed the Tesseract. Thor lightly steered Loki into the back seat of Tony’s car while Tony climbed into the front. When they had driven for some distance – Loki did not care to fathom how far – they stopped at what appeared to be a bridge. Their small motorcade parked along the curb and his brother led him across the street to a small dark circle on the ground, just large enough for two people to stand on.

As Bruce lowered to Tesseract into its container, Loki looked up for the first time since they had gotten into the car and observed the two Avengers standing in front of him. Hawkeye had been a good companion and tactician while he had been under his control. He could not deny that the man was cunning and his marksmanship could rival even that of the Warriors Three. Beside Hawkeye stood the Black Widow – Natasha, Hawkeye had called her. He took a moment to marvel at how small and surprisingly powerful this dangerous woman was. He would not have thought any mortal could outwit him, let alone a mortal woman. But she had been able to drag a bit of his plan from him, even if it was only a smaller part, by manipulating him into believing she was weak. As the God of Mischief, Loki may have invented that trick but she had perfected it. And he had fallen into her trap. Amidst his anger and embarrassment Loki could not help feeling a certain level of respect toward her at that moment. 

Loki looked up at her, his piercing blue eyes meeting her green ones for just a moment. 'She is beautiful for a Midgardian.'

Almost as if she had read his mind, she broke his eye contact to whisper in Hawkeye’s ear. He grinned at Loki with a self-satisfied smirk. 

Thor once again placed himself in front of Loki, the Tesseract in hand. Loki reached out to grab the handle as Thor gave one last glance to his fellow Avengers. He turned the handle and the two gods disappeared in a blue haze of light. 

When he landed again he was standing on the bifrost, which he could see was currently undergoing repair. He looked to his left to observe the damage. The bright colors of the rainbow bridge still stood illuminated in the black night sky, shattered and jagged-edged along the two sides separated by a gaping hole. A faint shadow of the bright rainbow colors connected the jagged pieces with misty white swirls of light slowly passing between the two edges. He suspected that they were using sorcery combined with Heimdall and Odin’s own magic to repair it, a tactic which seemed to be working. He felt a very small but still present pang of guilt. 

Thor placed one hand on Loki’s shoulder in a soft but affirmative manner. “Come, brother” he said. Loki forgot his feeling of guilt and the dread and anger that had dominated his feelings took over once more. He turned and allowed Thor to steer him toward the palace, his former home, with his hand still placed on his shoulder. There were no guards of any kind waiting to escort them. Loki had figured that Odin would send a detail to make sure that Loki did not slip away. He was mildly surprised but felt indifference, preferring to walk alone with Thor than to be babysat by mediocre soldiers who would not stand a chance against him should he choose to run. 

They walked together along the toward the tall golden doors of the palace. Thor gave Loki a concerned glance laced with small amounts of pity every so often. Loki just continued to look forward, his head slightly bowed. He figured that Thor was taking him to the throne room, where he expected to stand in some show-trial before the court and Odin, and receive his punishment from there. 

What he didn’t expect was for Thor to steer him not toward the main entrance, but along the hedge lined path leading to the right side of the palace, toward a small golden door, just large enough for the two gods to walk through. The door stood out among the white marble of the building even in the cover of darkness. Loki remembered this door as the one that he and Thor used to sneak in and out of the palace as children when they were avoiding their lessons or the angry victims of some trick that Loki had pulled. He gave Thor a questioning look as they made their approach. His eyes asked 'Why are you taking me here? Please tell me that you’re going to appeal to my humanity by bringing me to our old hiding places. You know that will not work, you fool!'u

Inside the door was a winding marble staircase, going many, many floors up. They climbed the steps for what seemed like an eternity to Loki with his shackles on; lifting his feet to take big enough steps to climb each stair was a chore due to the shortness of the chains. Finally they reached a long hallway along one of the top floors of the palace. Thor led a somewhat panting Loki (it was difficult to breath under that damned muzzle) to a room just beside the staircase. 

Loki knew this room. It was his mother’s sitting room. The ceiling rose to a vaulted point with gold and white marble walls, a crimson rug with intricate gold and silver designs like the symbol on Mjolnir covered most of the black reflective floor. A tall marble fireplace graced the room with light from the opposite wall, and on either side of the fireplace sat a crimson chaise and sofa. Frigga, with her long beautiful golden hair tied in a long braid, occupied the chaise lounge. Her silver dress sprawled across the crimson created a beautiful sight. She let out a sound like a shriek and a gasp and leaped up when she saw Thor, his brother shackled and muzzled, looking tired and defeated, beside him. 

“Thor!” she shrieked. Her face surprised. Then she looked to Loki. “Oh my…Loki…”

“I could not take him to father first, in front of the entire court. I wished to spare him the shame,” Thor said slowly. 

Her facial expression changed to one of surprise and sadness as she eagerly crossed the room. She did not approach Thor but made a beeline to her youngest son. For a moment it looked as if she would throw her arms around his neck and sob. Loki could see tears starting to form in her eyes even from all the way across the room. But as she grew closer he could see the sadness in her eyes turn to anger and hurt.

Here was his weakness – he had always loved his mother. She had been the only one to treat him with unconditional love and kindness, and had never shown favor toward either one of her children. In his worry over Odin’s reaction, Loki had forgotten about how his mother must have felt about all of this. A new emotion reigned over him more powerfully than any other he had felt that day – shame. 

She stopped only inches in front of him. She was smaller than he was by a head, but she made him feel as if he were only as tall as a young child again. She stared at him for just a moment, a mix of sorrow and joy and hurt and anger flashing in her eyes. Then suddenly she reached up and slapped him with all her might. The force of her palm against his cheek had turned Loki’s head with a surprisingly painful jolt. If he had not had the muzzle he would have gasped from the shock. Then, she placed both hands on either side of his face and turned him so that she was looking into his eyes, peering into his very soul. She held on tight so that he could not turn his head

“I thought you dead! I have mourned for you! Have you any idea of the pain I felt at losing my child? Have you ANY idea the sorrow and emptiness you left in my heart?!” She paused to catch her breath as the tears in her eyes started flowing. She spoke again, but her words did not lose any of their power as her volume rose.

“When I heard you were alive I rejoiced. I hoped that you would come home safe and well. I hardly believed what they told me of what you had done. You have shamed yourself, your family, and you have shamed Asgard! Is this the intelligent, handsome, kind boy that I raised? Where is he??” She asked the last question desperately, quietly, almost a whisper. 

Loki couldn’t take it. At this, he fell to his knees in front of her. He was still angry, still painfully angry at everything. He was still embarrassed by his defeat. But the shame that Frigga had infused in him added more to the anger and embarrassment than anything else could have. He was completely overwhelmed with every negative emotion in existence. Tears still flowing down her cheeks, Frigga dropped to Loki’s level and wrapped her arms around his neck. He closed his eyes as she whispered “My Loki….my son…”

At that precise moment, the door to the room slammed open behind him and both Loki and Frigga’s heads snapped up. She scrambled to her feet and Thor turned around quickly to face the man in the doorway. It was Odin. 

“Loki Odinson!” 

'Ah. Here it comes… '

“I would not have believed it if I had not seen it myself.” He stood gravely, his back strait as to bring him to his full height. He closed the door behind him roughly. Loki stood up again to face him. Odin did not continue speaking right away but just observed Loki for a moment shackled and muzzled before him. 

“You are guilty of unspeakable crimes. The near-genocide of an entire race on Jotenheim, the destruction of the bifrost-”

Loki’s eyes narrowed at this. 'Technically that wasn’t my doing….'

“-the murder of hundreds of innocent mortals…not to mention the damage you have inflicted upon Midgard!” He paused, his eye stern and angry. “And, because of your actions on Jotenheim,” his voice more quiet now but not any less angry, “Asgard and Jotenheim are again at war.” Loki could see Thor shift uncomfortably to his right. Thor’s actions hadn’t exactly helped the situation, considering that he had started the conflict by marching into Jotenheim demanding answers as to how two Frost Giants had managed to sneak into the weapons vault. 

“Diplomatic negotiations have failed. It seems that war can no longer be avoided. In the present circumstance, a public trial would be unwise. Asgard does not need the turmoil and distraction that such a trial would yield.” Odin sounded as if he truly regretted what he was saying. “For the time being, I will not have you locked up in the palace.” 

'That is wise. No dungeon in this palace could keep me for long,' Loki thought angrily. 

“If it is true that you owe a debt to the Chitauri it would not be safe for you, or our family, to keep you here. They will surely hunt you. So for the time being, I sentence you to be chained to the cliff, furthest to the east, where they cannot find you, and you cannot use your magic to harm anyone. You will remain there until Asgard is once again at peace with Jotenheim. At that time I will determine a more suitable punishment for your crimes.” He looked at Loki with determination and sadness. He could hardly believe what had become of his youngest son. 

Loki’s eyes widened with horror. He was to be chained down like a beast, defenseless, away from everyone, to be used as bait to lure danger away from Asgard? Worse, Odin knew how Loki desperately feared the sea. This wasn’t punishment – this was torture. 

“Father, we cannot leave him alone there with nothing to protect him or watch over him. What if the Chitauri do come for him? He cannot defend himself! He could die!” Thor vehemently protested. Loki was begrudged but grateful for Thor speaking what he was thinking. 

“Enough, Thor!” Odin said. Thor just stared at his father in disbelief. 

“I will be in Asgard only for tonight. I must go to the front with the troops. While I am away, Thor, you will be the acting king in my absence. I trust your ability to lead at home.” Thor nodded silently. 

Odin approached Loki for the first time and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked like he wanted to say something but did not quite know what. Loki glared at the man menacingly. Odin sighed and turned away from him to face Thor. 

“Come, Thor. I want a word.” 

The two of them left the room and walked to the right, Loki staring after them and Frigga calling for two guards in the hall. She whispered to them for a moment. The guards placed themselves on either side of him and led him from the room, Frigga leading them away to the left, toward the staircase again. She shared a glance with her husband for a second before they each went their separate ways. 

They walked just a few feet before they stopped. Odin turned to his son. “Thor, I know that this seems harsh but understand I do not do this to Loki out of spite. I must think about the safety of Asgard and its people first, always. He is my son. I will do what I can to protect him, but I will not have his presence endangering the innocent lives of our people.” 

“I do understand. Loki has done terrible things, but there is good in him, Father, I have seen it. I fear that this course of action will push him further into the darkness.” Thor replied. 

“This is a risk that we must take. You will learn that as king, you must ALWAYS place the well-being of your people first. This is not a position which allows for personal feelings to interfere with your decision making. It pains me to do this to him, but what else can I do? I must protect my people,” said Odin. Thor could see he was stern in his decision and would not be moved. He lowered his head in silence 

“I am sorry, Father, for the trouble that I have caused. For what Loki has caused. We never meant for war. I will not disappoint you in your absence.” Thor said guiltily. 

“See that you do not.” Odin replied simply. He nodded, signaling that the conversation was over. “And Thor – I am proud of your victory on Midgard. You seem to have made powerful allies amongst them.” 

Thor did not expect praise for his actions in light of the grave news, and was unsure how to respond. “Thank you, Father,” He replied halfheartedly. 

Odin walked away, leaving Thor alone in the dark hallway with his thoughts. He reflected on his feelings and acknowledged the progress that he had made since his own banishment. Perhaps Odin was right in his judgment, and Loki’s punishment would do the same for him, make him see the error of his ways and repent. Then again, Thor had had Jane to help him see the error in his ways and change him; Loki was to be confined to the solidarity of his own angry and misguided thoughts. Thor was not sure that this would help Loki. He hoped, as he made his way down the hallway toward his own room that Loki had it in himself to find his own salvation, for his own sake.


	2. A Proposition

On board the Sanctuary II, the being called The Other knelt before his seated master. 

“Humans... They are not the cowering wretches we were promised. They stand. They are unruly, and therefore cannot be ruled. To challenge them is to court death.” 

Thanos rose to his feet and smiled. “And what a shame it would be to keep my mistress waiting.”

He walked past The Other to peer into the distance at the Earth. “The Asgardian has something of mine. And I wish to have it back,” He stated. 

“He would not have left it on Midgard among the humans,” replied The Other. “It will be in Asgard. And he, banished, or imprisoned. You must find another to enter the All-Father’s vault.”

Thanos still faced toward the Earth as he spoke slowly. “I have another – she is also an Asgardian. She will not fail as the fool Loki has. But we will need a distraction.” He thought for a moment. “The Chitauri thirst to redeem themselves, to find the traitor who failed them. We will unleash them upon Asgard. And I shall have what is mine once again.” 

“I will lead them when the All-Father has led his soldiers to Jotunheim. The Asgardians will not be able to fight back,” said The Other.

Since the battle on Midgard, they had worked to rebuild the Chitauri army to its full strength again. They now had as many foot soldiers as they had before, and the ships were nearly all rebuild. He was quite proud of the progress they had made. Thanos knew that he could not fail. 

“Then we will prepare to go to Asgard. Prepare the army. Asgard shall be sacrificed to Death. And they will be able to do nothing to stop it.” 

XxX

Early the next morning before the sun rose, Thor retrieved Loki from the spare bed chamber that Frigga had insisted he stay in for the night. Loki had been grateful to have the opportunity to sleep in a bed one last time, but sleep did not come to him that night. He had spent the night desperately trying to figure out a way to escape from his situation. The shackles that Odin had placed on him stopped him from using his magic; no matter how hard he tried he could not conjure even a simple spell. He had to rely on his own cleverness to find some kind of loophole if he were to escape this. But alas, he could not find one. So he grudgingly followed his brother and Odin, along with a small company of guards this time, all the way to the eastern-most cliff overlooking the sea on the outskirts of Asgard. 

Loki walked pointedly and determined, his head held high. He would not give Odin the satisfaction of knowing that he was afraid. So he stared ahead of him and walked in silence, even though the muzzle had been removed. 

The cliff jutted out to a rounded, jagged point. Beneath the point was a small cave, just large enough for a full-grown man to sit or kneel in. Odin stopped a few yards short of the point and turned to Loki. 

“Loki Odinson,” he started ('Laufeyson,' Loki thought viciously),

“You shall be detained here as punishment for your crimes. You will remain at this place until Asgard and Jotenheim are again at peace. At that time you will stand trial and a more permanent punishment will be issued.”

Odin placed both hands in front of him. Immediately Loki found himself being swarmed by golden light, and the next thing he knew he was kneeling inside of the cave, his arms outstretched slightly behind and downward, chained to the walls on either side of him by his wrists.

Slowly, Odin walked away from the cliff back toward the palace, followed by the company of guards. Thor stayed for just a moment. He wanted to say something to his brother but he couldn’t find the words. Not that Loki would have listened anyway. With a sigh, he turned to follow his father. 

XxX

Loki tugged at the chains on each arm, clinging to the hope that Odin had not done the spell correctly. When the chains failed to budge he knew this hope was in vain. He gave a pouting sigh. 

'Great. I’ve been chained down like a beast and abandoned, with Thor as my only friend. This could not possibly be worse.'

The sun was coming up now directly in front of him, revealing his view of his world for the next – well, however long it took for Asgard to defeat Jotunheim. To his front the vast sea stretched as far as he could glimpse. Below him were jagged, pointed rocks on which he could see and hear the waves crashing. Out to his left he could just barely see the tiny, blue clouds surrounding the realm of Jotunheim. 'I suppose there are worse places to be imprisoned.'

Hours passed. The sun rose into a full day and disappeared above him. He was too far away from the populace to hear anything; his only auditory companion was that of the waves rolling against the rocks. His arms and knees were already beginning to throb and then go numb from being still in a kneeling position for so long. His thoughts were angry and bitter as he looked for something, someone, to blame for his current situation. He did not wonder about why he was being punished; he knew why. That was easy enough to figure out. But having nothing else to think about he wondered why, really, was he here? 

He stared out into the water for a long time. Finally, as the sun began to set again he looked down at the sea, which was now showing the reflection of the sky. Something about the deep blue reflecting the scarlet and orange sunset had a way of forcing him into reflecting upon himself. Somewhere very, very deep in his heart he knew exactly who and what to blame. But his thoughts would not allow him to see reason. 

'You have brought this on yourself you know. You deserve this, and whatever other punishment Odin can come up with.'

'This is not my place! I was a king! The rightful king of Asgard!'

'That is your own selfishness and wounded pride speaking. You coveted the throne only to prove yourself equal to Thor. And appear a worthy son to Odin.'

'Is that what you know? I am a god! The mortals are weak. I only failed because Thor had to interfere.'

'Did you not wish to defeat Thor before all of Midgard? Before Odin, and Heimdall? You knew they would be watching. You know Thor is stronger than you. You practically begged Thor to come and fight you! You have brought this on yourself!'

He sighed angrily. Yes, his pride was what brought him to this place. Thor had offered him the chance to come home, to give up that “poisonous dream.” He said it himself: I have come too far for anything else. But that did not satisfy the question of why he was there to begin with. Was it really only his need to prove himself to Odin? To prove himself equal to Thor? That was the easy answer. But somehow, that did not seem good enough. There were other things too that had bothered him. 

'My entire life has been a lie. I, the God of Mischief and Lies, am myself a lie. If that is true, who am I then? Oh the Irony! How could I have been so blind for so long? Odin! He lied to me, gave me false hope of the throne only to give it to his precious, unworthy Thor!'

Yes, he was angry and jealous of Thor. He had always been jealous of his brother, because Odin had always seemed to favor him. His jealousy had been what drove him to send the Destroyer after Thor when he was banished to Midgard. That and he did not want Thor interfering with his plan to kill Laufey in front of Odin. So that Odin would accept him fully as his son, not just the Frost Giant child that he had taken in out of a sense of obligation.

So there was one of his answers: he sought acceptance in a world that he knew would not accept him. The simple truth of the matter was that he was a monster hiding in plain sight; he was the monster that parents told their children about at night. Even Odin had told them tales of the horrors that the Frost Giants were capable of to scare them into good behavior when they were very small. He had feared them his entire life only to learn that he was one of them, an outsider. 

'But I always knew I was different. I did not look or act like Thor, or the Warriors Three, or any other Asgardian obsessed with shining in battle. The shock of my true pedigree unnerved me. Would a normal man have sneaked into Jotenheim with a cunning plot to kill his biological father in the name of his adopted father on a whim? No! I made a decision in a moment of madness that I would not normally have made. And that decision spiraled into a whole other chain of events. I was hardly capable of controlling my own actions at the time.'

That was it. That was what this was all about: control. 

He wanted control. He had lost control of his life, his circumstances, and who he was. Everything he had done – killing Laufey, seeking power from the being Thanos, taking Midgard for his own – had been an attempt to have control of his situation. He could not control himself, so he sought to control others. Hell, he had even placed several mortals under mind control. He felt almost a sense of relief at finally identifying the trigger that had set off this maddening chain of events. 

But this also unnerved him. Even now he recognized that he had no control over his fate. He was chained here, with no means of escape, until Odin reappeared to release him. He was living on another’s mercy; Odin had something to hang over his head. Until he was free of that, he could not truly have control of his own fate. Also, even if Odin were to come at this very moment, he would have no idea what to do, no plan of action. Where could he possibly go from here? Where did he want to go? 

So – what now? That was the real question. 

Who was he? Who did he want to be? Do you want to be the monster that is imprisoned and chained down like an animal because he is too dangerous to be unleashed upon the Nine Realms? No. But I cannot exactly go back to being the little brother and companion to Thor again. That is out of the question…

XxX

These questions are what plagued Loki as the time passed. Days turned to weeks. After just a few days he gave up trying to keep track of the time that had passed. What was the point? He had no idea when Odin would return, or even if he would return. The stories of the brutality of the Frost Giants in battle, combined with the knowledge that Odin was not the strong young warrior he used to be, made him wonder if he would return from the war. All he knew was that he was stuck here until he did. Day after day, he would replay the same conversations in his mind. Would he redeem himself in the eyes of his family and return to them? Would he seek to make his own way elsewhere in the Nine Realms? Or, would he simply seek vengeance and destruction on all those whom he tended to blame for his situation? When his head was swimming and he felt he had had enough he would doze off into sleep, the only place he could escape from his thoughts. 

Once in a while some of the children would come along, daring each other to get as close to the “Loki cave” as they could. It became a game to them. As much as they annoyed him, they also reminded him of the shenanigans that he and Thor would pull, and it almost made him grin at some of the happy memories. Those days were ones where Loki would vow to himself, 'When I am free again I will make amends and seek a peace with my brother.' He even entertained the idea of making peace with Midgard on those days.  
But other days, he would scoff at the idea. 'Those pathetic children. Oh how I wish I had my magic so I could teach them a lesson!' These were the days he was bitterly angry and thought only of vengeance to those he perceived had wronged him: Thor, The Avengers, Odin, The Other, and the being called Thanos, who had given him the power from the Tesseract. He wished ill on them all. 

Loki had even labeled these opposing sides of himself. “Good Loki” would urge him to make amends with his family and go back to the way things were; “Bad Loki” would urge him to take vengeance on everyone and everything and continue on the path of destruction. And so he argued with himself. 'Arguing with myself over myself? Surely I am going mad, if I am not there already.'

And it was just his luck that on a day when “Bad Loki” dominated his thoughts, that she came to him. 

XxX

“So, this is he cave that holds the infamous Loki, God of Mischief and of Lies? Surely your father would not leave you here for the sea to swallow?” It was a woman’s voice, oily and yet sweet at the same time. 

Loki was taken aback; he knew that voice: Amora, the Enchantress – a fellow sorcerer (well, sorceress). The last time he had seen her had been in the presence of Thanos. What business could she possibly have to speak with me? 

“Have you come to have a gloat, or do you have some business here?” Loki growled his voice rough from disuse. “Perhaps you are here as a collector? If so, you may tell your master that it is no longer in my possession.” 

“Oh Loki, can I not come see an old friend?” Amora asked sweetly. “Perhaps I wished to share some time with you.” He could hear her seductive smile in her voice. It made him shiver. 

“Do not toy with the God of Lies, woman. What do you want?” 

“I do not deny that I am here on a mission, and so I will be frank with you,” her tone changed to be more business-like. “Lord Thanos seeks a certain item in the All-Father’s weapons vault. I have no access to this room. I wish to find a way into the palace. You wish to be free of your cave. And so I come with a proposition.” 

Loki considered sending her away, but this was too entertaining for him, so he let her continue. “I am listening.”

“I will free you of your bindings. You know my magic is more than capable of reversing Odin’s spell. In return you will retrieve this item for me. And you will be able to witness the downfall of the mighty Thor in the process.” 

If this had been a “Good Loki” day, he would have seen that her proposition was not all that it appeared to be. If this had been a “Good Loki” day, he would have told her to take her enchantments elsewhere and find another dog to play fetch for her, that he was not longer under the control of Thanos and did not need to be a pawn in his plans any longer. But today, “Bad Loki,” was in control, and the thought of seeing Thor knocked from his pedestal was too delicious for him not to take the bait. Before he would agree, he wanted to toy with her a bit. Just for a bit of fun. 

“And what will you do if I refuse your proposition?” Loki asked slyly, his voice coming back to life again “How does the great Enchantress plan to slither her way into the palace if she will not convince the God of Mischief to aid her in her schemes?” 

“Can you refuse?” her voice was back to its oily sweetness again. “I know how you would love to see him fall. How you must hate the mighty thunder god, Loki! But no matter...I can leave you here to rot by the sea. I shall carry out this mission...for long have I wished to conquer the heart of handsome Thor!” 

That was her plan? Seduce Thor into giving her what she seeks? That may work on the great sorcerers, woman, but not on Thor. He loves the mortal woman too much. You poor, foolish being, you would not stand a chance without me. 

“I accept your proposition,” he said. “Free me from this place and you will have what you seek.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line “How you must hate the mighty thunder god…” is an actual quote from the comics. I just borrowed it for my own use. I thought it was clever and it fit in nicely.


	3. The Battle at Asgard

Chapter 3 The Battle at Asgard

Natasha was running down the long, white hallway, flames and thick, black smoke closing in around her. A fire alarm was screaming and flashing a barely-visible white light somewhere above her head. She couldn’t see where she was going. She stopped when she smacked into the wall at the end of the corridor and dropped to the ground. There was a door barely visible to her right. Quickly, she sprang up and pushed the door open to reveal a set of stairs.

She covered her nose and mouth with her hand as she descended the smoke-filled stairwell to the first level of the hospital. Even there she could hear the howling and anguished screams of the trapped patients in the floors around her. There were bodies sprawled across the steps, some with burns covering their face and hands and covered in charred clothing, some who appeared to have suffered smoke inhalation and just collapsed. 

Finally, she reached the lobby. She was panting by now, and coughing. A thick layer of sweat covered her head and face. Through the smoke she could see the exit right in front of her. She ran toward it. When she was no more than a few yards from the door, she tripped and flew face first onto the floor. Looking behind to see what she had fallen over, she saw a young boy, no older than seven or eight, crouched on his hands and knees, wailing. He looked up at her, tears flowing from his eyes, mixing in with the blood and charred skin that covered his entire body. He barely looked human.

She stared at him for a few seconds. Then she reached for her gun, pointed the barrel between the boy’s eyes, and squeezed the trigger. 

With that, Natasha launched up from her bed and fell right over the side of the mattress onto the floor, still covered with her sweat-soaked blanket. She was breathing hard as she looked around her bedroom. She wasn’t at the hospital; she was still in her apartment. The darkness around her told her it was probably the middle of the night.   
She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. It was just a dream. Her heart was racing almost painfully. After a few minutes she rose to her feet and walked into the bathroom. She flipped on the lights and turned the cold water tap on. Cupping her hands beneath the stream of water, she splashed her face a few times before turning the water off again and looking up to stare at her own reflection. 

Natasha had had that dream before. It was one of many that contained incidents from her past that refused to be forgotten, incidents that she had been involved in before she worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. Over the years, the nightmares had subsided somewhat, but once in a while one of her atrocities would creep into her mind and cause her to have a nightmare. 

Thinking back on her and Clint’s last mission, she had no doubt where the dream had come from. They had barely escaped the abandoned Hydra base before it had exploded behind them. As hard as she had tried not to think about it, the explosion reminded her of the hospital fire. And now she had just had a nightmare about it. She shook her head and exited the bathroom to her bedroom again.

Deciding that sleep probably wouldn’t come to her, she grabbed her gym bag to head to the training room at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. It became a ritual to her to work out after she had such dreams. It calmed her down by giving her something to release her pain without hurting anyone or herself. In the bag she stuffed her cell phone, her workout clothes, her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, shoes, and other necessities before grabbing her keys and quickly leaving the dark apartment, and her nightmare, behind her. 

XxX

Loki smiled maliciously as he felt the chains melt away. He was free! He called for his magic and delighted when it responded immediately, flooding through him and he embraced it as an old friend. Satisfied with himself, he disappeared and reappeared onto the cliff. 

When he opened his eyes he was still kneeling has he had been in the cave. Beside him Amora stood, her long blonde hair blowing in the breeze. Loki stood slowly to give his legs a chance to get used to standing again; they felt a little bit wobbly and his knees ached. He took a few steps to get his muscles used to movement again. 

He was glad to be rid of that place. 'But at what cost?' he thought. 'I have to sneak into the weapons vault. That will not be so simple. What have I gotten myself into?' He tried to hush those thoughts as he reminded himself that this was all to have his revenge against Thor. But the thoughts lingered in his mind. 

“Our bargain?” said the Enchantress, snapping him back to reality. He turned to face her. 

“Yes,” he replied slowly. “What is it that you seek?” 

“An object called the Infinity Gauntlet. I trust you have seen it?” she asked. 

“Of course I have,” he snapped. “I am not blind to the objects in the vault.”

Amora chose to ignore his tone and continued “Retrieve the Gauntlet and meet me at the centre fountain. Before the day is out you will see the mighty Thor fall from grace,” she said.

“How, may I ask, do you plan for that to happen?” Loki asked. 

“You will find out soon enough,” she said sweetly. “You will know when it does.”

Loki’s tone was dark when he answered her. “As comforting as your words are, they are but words to me,” he scowled. “How do you expect me to stroll up to the fountain with a powerful magical weapon from the All-Father’s vault without drawing attention to myself? Hmm?” 

She frowned slightly as if she didn’t want to give away too much of her plan. “I’ll secure a diversion for you. Besides, I believe you are capable of casting an invisibility spell, are you not? You will be well hidden.” 

It was then that it struck Loki: 'she is hiding something. I can feel it.' Rather than ask outright, he hid his inner turmoil and simply nodded toward her. “Well, let’s not waste any more time then, shall we?” 

And with that, Loki disappeared. 

When he reappeared he was standing in the garden behind the palace among the tall hedges lining the perimeter. With ease he cast an invisibility spell over himself and patiently waited, forming his plan. It will be simple, really: use one of the backdoor passages into the palace, take out the guards stationed outside the vault, grab the gauntlet and disappear. An invisibility spell used too much energy when used for a long period of time, so he could not risk using it for too long, lest he need to escape.   
But the sense of doubt and suspicion he felt from Amora’s last comment filled him once again. She had something to hide from him, he knew it. She was not telling him something, something important. He had seen it in her face just a moment before. He could recognize a lie and a cover-up when he saw one. He was the God of Mischief and Lies after all. 

'Do I really want to do this? That witch is lying to me. Something is wrong about this.'

'She has freed you! You have an accord. Do you not wish to see the man responsible for your misery fall?'

Loki frowned. His mind and his conscience battled once again. This time, he did not hush his conscience. 

'Thor is not responsible for any of this. I brought this on myself. And now I will make it worse. Is this really what I want? To be used as a means to an end once again?'

No. 

He had made up his mind. With a fresh wave of determination to strode stealthily along the edge of the garden toward the palace. He formed sa plan. He just hoped it would be enough.

Quickly and quietly as he could, he snuck up the white marble steps into the palace, hiding behind tall bushes to keep out of sight of the guards. He didn’t bother climbing the steps but grabbed onto the wall of the tallest step and hoisted himself up. Being tall and lanky had its advantages. Once up, he hid behind the nearest pillar and then dashed inside the open walkway leading to the first floor. He breathed a sigh of relief. That was easy enough. Only two more floors to go. 

He cast an invisibility spell to avoid being seen in the walkway as he sprinted toward a doorway at the end that he knew contained a set of winding stairs. When he took the first step he let the invisibility spell disappear and he was reminded of the night Thor had brought him back from Midgard. Thankful that he did not have the chains this time, he sprang up the stairs, carefully muffling the sound of his boots on stone. 

After only a few steps there was a deafening explosion and the ground shook violently. He stopped and looked up. 'What in the name of Valhalla…?'

Loki forgot all stealth as he raced the rest of the way up the stairs. Smaller explosions followed the first one as he reached his destination. Outside the stairwell there was another open walkway lined with tall pillars that reached the ceiling and looked out into the city. He cast another invisibility spell and ran out into the walkway to look out into the city.   
The explosion had come from a nearby tower. Only a few feet from its foundation were left standing as people scattered away from the smoldering remains. He looked up at the red and orange sky to see a great ship firing beams of energy at anything and everything in its path. He knew that ship. 

It was the Chitauri. Loki gasped and stared out in horror at the destruction before him. A dozen leviathans glided across the sky, toppling into buildings and sending debris flying in all directions onto people running away desperately to avoid being hit. Several more buildings were on fire from the beams fired from the mother ship. 

'So this was the diversion Amora spoke of?' he thought in awe. Whatever he had expected it had not been this. And suddenly the words of The Other formed in his mind: 

"If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevasse where I can't find you. You think you know pain? He will make you long for that so sweet as pain..."

His horror turned to panic as he realized the true danger he was in at that moment. He had to get out of Asgard. 'No. I have to get the Gauntlet out of their reach!' He turned toward the door of the weapons vault and was met by a spear colliding painfully with the side of his face and he was knocked off balance. He had forgotten to maintain his invisibility spell and it had melted away to reveal him. 

The spear belonged to one of the guards outside the vault. Loki regained himself and conjured two green balls of energy to hurl at the guard who hit him. The guard crumpled to the ground as another approached Loki from the side. Without hesitation Loki turned and grabbed his spear to use as leverage to flip him on his back. For the first time since he used the trick on Heimdall Loki blew on the two guards to encase them in ice where they lay. It is for your own good. 

Making a mental note to free them once he had the gauntlet, Loki again headed toward the vault. He threw open the doors and flew down the steps to the long vault and looked around frantically. Where is it? He looked in each of the gaps along the wall until he came to one that held a golden glove. 

He quickly snatched the gauntlet in his hand and admired it for a second. 'All this for a damned glove?' With one hand enclosed on the gauntlet he waved his other hand and another gauntlet, precisely identical to the one he held, appeared in a flash of golden light. 

Loki brought the two gauntlets up to his face to examine them, looking for any imperfection that would reveal his deception. Once he was satisfied he waved his hand and the real gauntlet vanished from sight. He could conjure it again later once he was safely away from the danger.

Suddenly something very heavy hit Loki in the ribs and he was sent flying to the end of the hall, stopping only once he crashed into the far end wall. He crumpled in a heap of pain on the ground clutching his side with his free hand. The impact had knocked the wind out of him. He attempted to sit up, gasping for air. Before he could rise he was knocked down once again, this time onto his back. He felt a pressure on his chest as Mjolnir was placed on top of him. He could barely breathe. He looked up to see Thor standing over him, glaring at him in anger. 

“How have you escaped?” Thor growled. 

“Thor, listen to me, there’s no time to explain-“Loki gasped. 

“How have you escaped?!” 

“They seek the Infinity Gauntlet!” Loki managed to choke out. “I must get it out of Asgard!” 

“And into the hands of the Chitauri?” Thor asked accusatively, his volume rising. 

“Damn it, I am trying to help! Get this thing off me and let me explain!” Loki said as quickly and loudly as he could manage. 

Thor summoned Mjolnir and grabbed Loki by the collar, holding him close to his face. Loki coughed and sputtered for a few seconds before speaking again. 

“Amora freed me from the cave in exchange for the Gauntlet,” he explained quickly. “I did not know that the Chitauri would be involved. This Gauntlet,” he lifted the decoy Gautlet to show Thor, “is a fake. I will give this one to Amora and take the real Gaunlet somewhere safe!” 

“How am I to believe you?” Thor growled. “How am I to know this is not merely one of your tricks, and that you have brought this upon Asgard?”

Loki looked at Thor like he was stupid “The Chitauri seek to torture and kill me for my failures to them, why would I aid them in an attack against my home?” He waited for a second. “Thor, I beg of you, for once in your life you must trust me.” Loki added in desperation. He was breathing quickly now. 

Thor looked at him for a few seconds and his face softened. He let go of Loki roughly as he staggered back a couple of steps. Loki looked at his brother, waiting for him to speak. 

“Where do you intend to take it?” Thor asked. 

Loki shook his head. “Anywhere. Vanaheim? Or perhaps Alfheim.” 

“Take it to Midgard,” Thor ordered him. “Take it to the Avengers. They can protect it until the danger passes.”

“Are you mad?” Loki practically yelled. “They will kill me on sight!” 

“I will not have it going anywhere else! Take it there, or back to the cave you will go!” Thor threatened. 

Loki growled at him. Bastard… ”Fine. But you will come to collect me when I have been imprisoned by them again!” 

Thor placed his hand on Loki’s shoulder and looked at him in the eye. His gaze was intense and somber. “I swear to you, brother, they will not harm you. I will make sure of that.”   
Another explosion snapped their attention back to the situation at hand. Thor, his hand still on his brother’s arm, took off running, half dragging Loki beside him. Together, they flew swiftly out of the hall and back into the walkway. At the top of the stairs, the two guards still lay frozen where Loki left them. Loki skid to a halt and turned back toward the doors. He made a pulling motion with his arm and the doors slammed shut. With another wave of his hand the ice dissolved off of the guards and they lay conscious but limp on the ground. His deed done, he chased after Thor across the walkway. 

No sooner had they passed the midway point of the walkway it was blown apart from a beam of light shot down from the mother ship. Debris sprayed them as they dived in unison to the ground. Loki looked up to see the laser of the Chitauri mother ship aimed directly at them in the distance. As another beam of light formed to strike them down, Loki, acting on instinct, leaped across Thor’s back and grabbed his arm. Conjuring as much of his magic as he could he teleported them in a flash of green light. 

They landed with an “Oomph!” on the cobblestone street, Loki still covering his brother protectively. He rolled off Thor onto his hands and knees, his vision blurred and his head swimming. His arms shook as he pushed off the ground, the decoy Gauntlet still in hand. The magic required to transport two gods drained him of energy. Thor grabbed him from his shoulders and helped him up the rest of the way. 

“Thank you,” Thor said. 

“Don’t mention it,” breathed Loki. 

Loki took a second to regain his composure before they took off once again. Looking around at the overwhelming destruction that surrounded him, he could only think of getting the decoy Gauntlet to the fountain. 

“Heimdall!” Thor shouted. “Get the people to the bifrost! Get them out of Asgard!” 

He didn’t have to wait for an answer. Almost as soon as he spoke Loki heard the whirl of the bifrost coming back to life. 'The bifrost must have been completed in my absence. How long was I imprisoned in that cave?' 

The reptilian-like Chitauri foot soldiers were now fighting hand to hand with the people of Asgard, who had finally begun to fight back. The men who were left behind bore spears and hatchets as they swung at the Chitauri. Even some children were picking up debris and throwing them at the Chitauri as their mothers dragged them toward the bifrost. Loki wondered at what Thanos could possibly have been thinking when he attacked Asgard. He should have known that the Asgardians would fight back. 'Fool! All of them are warriors! What was he thinking?'

He was only a couple hundred yards away from the circle that held the tall golden fountain now. His eyes darted at Thor and then back to the fountain to relay what he was thinking. Thor seemed to understand. He turned to usher some more people toward the bifrost as Loki took off behind him toward the fountain. He weaved, dodged, and jumped between Chitauri soldiers, occasionally throwing a ball of golden and green energy at them. By now, he felt weak and out of breath. He had still not recovered from apparating himself and Thor, and his energy reserves were running low. 

Finally, he reached the circle, practically gasping for air, clutching the Gauntlet as close to his body as he could. He looked around frantically for Amora. Damned woman, where is she? If it the situation had not been so grave he would have found the fact that she was fashionably late for their date amusing. 

“Loki! Do you have it?!” came Amora’s voice from behind him. About time.

He turned around to face her. “Take it! And leave Asgard, witch!” He thrust the decoy Gauntlet into her outstretched hands. “Now go!”

He held his breath while putting on the best poker face he could. 'Take the bait…please take it…!'

She seemed to have bought it. But instead of just taking the Gauntlet and leaving, she held onto it with one hand and conjured a bright red ball of energy with the other. She thrust it straight into Loki’s chest and he collapsed before he had a chance to react. He was paralyzed; he couldn’t move at all. He lay there on his back, his hands clutching the place where the spell had struck him, stars swimming in his vision. 

Four Chitauri soldiers roughly hauled him to a kneeling position before slapping chains interconnected onto his wrists, ankles, and neck. Another muzzle was conjured and wrapped around his mouth

Inside his head he was screaming, panicking. 'No…No…No…No…!' He tried to force his muscles to struggle, but the spell still gripped him mercilessly. There was nothing he could do.

“Take him to the ship. Let Lord Thanos know we have the Gauntlet,” Amora told the Chitauri. 

They dragged Loki off the ground and threw him onto one of the four speeders waiting nearby. They mounted the speeders and took off toward the mother ship, Loki frantically searching the ground. When the bifrost came into view, Loki could see Thor herding the last few Asgardians into the great golden sphere. 'This is the last time I will see my brother,' he realized. 

Loki could see the soldiers retreating back, some onto leviathans while others leaped onto speeders like his own. In his mind he dreaded what he knew in his gut was coming. He will make you long for that so sweet as pain. Those words were the last thing he would remember as the speeder entered the dark hanger of the looming Chitauri ship.


	4. The Very Last Inch

Chapter 4 The Very Last Inch

Loki couldn’t remember how exactly he had gotten there. He felt groggy and sore as if he had been beaten by the Hulk a thousand times over. He blinked several times before slowly opening his eyes completely.

He was sitting in a small dark room surrounded by black steel walls, except for one semi-transparent wall to his left. A soft blue-white glow emitted from the wall though it provided little illumination to his surroundings. A single light shined down from a lamp that dangled overhead. The white beam nearly blinded him as it cascaded downward onto his face. He seemed to be bound to the chair he occupied, the chains that had been thrust on him still dangling from his limbs. His arms were behind him hanging uselessly as he struggled against his bindings. His magic failed to respond when he called for it and he let out a frustrated growl. 

Behind him came the screech of the metal door swinging open as The Other strode in, followed by a handful of other Chitauri soldiers. 

“Loki Laufeyson,” The Other hissed. “At long last. You have evaded us well, but not well enough.”

“I missed you too,” Loki replied with as much sarcasm as he could muster. 

A knife slipped from underneath The Other’s sleeve and dropped into his hand. Swift as lightning he grazed the blade across Loki’s left cheek. 

“Hold your silver tongue!” 

The cut oozed a thin red line that slid down his cheek. Suddenly a piercing burning sensation filled the area around the slit, making him grimace from the sting. 'The blade must be impregnated with poison…'

The Other spoke again. “Did you think you could hide from him? Did you think you could keep what is rightfully his from his grasp? I shall enjoy watching you suffer for your failures, Asgardian…” 

“Surely you must know that I no longer have what you seek,” Loki said as calmly as he could, his cheek still stinging from the poison. 

“Where is the gem?” The Other hissed at him. 

“It has been sent off, I know not where.” 

“Liar!”

The Other thrust the poisoned blade straight into Loki’s rib cage, plunging it in all the way to the handle. This time, the burning seared through him immediately coupled with the pain of the stab wound. He looked down at the ground to hide the painful expression on his face but he did not make a sound. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. 

“Where is the gem?” The Other asked again, more forcefully this time. 

Loki gasped for breath. “It has been sent off. It is no longer in my possession.” 

“Where have you sent it?”

“I know not where!” 

This earned him another stab, this time in the thigh. He could hear the blade slicing through his skin, could feel it tearing his muscles all the way to his bone. He grunted in agony as The Other twisted he blade before slowly pulling it back out again. The poison seemed to get stronger over time as the burning engulfed his entire lower body.  
The Other grabbed the front of Loki’s collar and held his face close to his. “You will tell us where it is. Until you do I will make you writhe until you beg for death. Then you will speak. And being merciful, I will swiftly oblige.”

“Oh, good, I hate long waits,” Loki gasped sarcastically. 

The Other held the knife to his throat. “This is your last chance, Asgardian. You will tell me where it is.”

“I know not where it is.” Loki closed his eyes tightly. Truly, he did not know what had become of the scepter or the gem within it, but he could not have them going to Midgard to search for it. Not if he was to take the Gauntlet there for protection.

The Other tore him from the chair, snapping the bindings clean off of him and threw him into the corner. The fatigue in Loki’s muscles kept him from pushing himself up off the ground. Before he had the chance to move again, two of the Chitauri forcefully lifted him from the ground and carried him to the center of the room, directly under the light.  
They slammed him down with a force strong enough to rival the Hulk as Loki made contact with the cold ground. His head crashed onto the steel floor and throbbed painfully as the edges of his vision blurred. In a flash his coat and shirt were removed so that his torso was completely exposed. The cold floor was a welcome balm against the heat searing through him from his wounds.

He knew he couldn’t fight them off just now; he would have to wait until the opportunity presented itself and make a break for it then. 

Two of the Chitauri soldiers in the room held him down in a spread-eagle position, one each pinning his arms to the ground. The Other partially straddled him, one knee on his chest, the other on the ground beside him. He began to cut and slice every bit of Loki’s skin with the poisoned blade, scattering gashes long and short, deep and shallow, across his chest, abdomen and arms.

Loki squirmed and recoiled with the cuts, but still he did not make a sound. He willed his mind to focus on his escape. He shut his eyes tightly again, as if he believed that if he couldn’t see them they weren’t really there. 

Finally, The Other stopped his rampage and looked down on Loki to admire his work. The trickster was trembling near uncontrollably, his muscles spasmed from the burning of the poison that coursed through his entire body now, and covered in a thin layer of his own blood. Satisfied with his work The Other grinned and rose to his feet and spat in Loki’s face before taking a couple of steps back to observe the scene. 

Loki took this as his opportunity and sprang into action. He mustered all the energy he had left to swing his legs up and around to his arm, where his feet collided with the soldier pinning him down to his right. The soldier fell to the side and he turned his attention to the soldier on his left, kicking him in the chest as hard as he could. With the second Chitauri down, he made a mad spring toward the still open door.

But three more Chitauri pounced on him as another slammed the door closed, sending him crashing to the ground hard. He continued to struggle, to attempt to get up. But his reflexes were too slow, his body too weak, and he was once again spread-eagle on the ground, this time his legs and arms both being pinned down. The Other dived on him again and thrust the poisoned knife straight through the back his outstretched palm, slicing completely through his hand , with so much force as to embed the tip into the steel floor. This time, Loki did not hold back the blood-curdling scream, the sound echoing throughout the room. He was so loud that he was sure the sound would be etched into the walls forever. The Other produced another blade, precisely the same as its predecessor, and repeated his act to Loki’s other hand as well, effectively crucifying him to the floor.  
'This is it. I’ve failed. They’re going to kill me right now…' Loki thought desperately, knowing he had been defeated. He had missed his only opportunity; there was no escaping his fate now.

The Chitauri that he had kicked had gotten back on his feet and rushed to him carrying what looked like a cylinder disk with syringes filled with a dark crimson liquid lining the outside edges. Without hesitation, as if it had been his plan all along, he thrust the cluster of needles straight down onto Loki’s chest, directly over his heart, and squeezed the plunger. 

If Loki thought the sting from the blade’s poison burned, it was nothing compared to this. A burning that emulated the intense fires of Muspelheim had erupted in his chest and was coursing through his body in a flash. His blood was boiling from the poison; his muscles felt like they were disintegrating as burns broke out from his skin all over his body, blood gushing from the open wounds. 

He twitched and thrashed on the ground, screaming until there was no more air left in his lugs to scream with. He could barely breathe anymore as he struggled to take short ragged breaths. He was dizzy and his vision had begun to blur. The only other sound in the room was the manic laughter of The Other as he relished in Loki’s pain. 

'Please…Please…end it now…please let it stop…' Loki begged hopelessly in his mind. He could not have voiced his plea even if had wanted to.

The Other’s laughter subsided and he stood over Loki, looking down on him like an insect about to be squashed. 

“You are weak, Asgardian, pathetic! You deserve every ounce of agony you have received, that you have yet to receive,” he hissed. 

And with that, he swiftly booted Loki hard in the temple, and Loki’s world went black. 

XxX

Loki lay on his back on the cold steel floor of his cell when he awoke again. He didn’t want to think anymore, it hurt to think. Everything hurt. His muscles were still sore from the poison, even hours later, though the burning had dwindled to a dull smoldering feeling. His head throbbed painfully. He could feel the welt from the kick that mercifully ended his first round of torture. 

After what seemed like hours he finally had the strength to sit up. A blood-encrusted hand rose immediately to his temple to ease the throbbing that still lingered. The cell was comprised of the same black steel as the previous room, but this time it covered all the walls and ceiling as well. A soft glow of light shined under the door that provided the only illumination. 

He remained seated and used his free hand to feel around in the darkness. His hand fell to a soft pile of leather and fabric that he recognized as his own coat and shirt that had been removed from him earlier. 'How thoughtful of them…' he thought bitterly. 

He knew that his situation was hopeless. He was too weak to even attempt another escape. He had been effectively tortured and humiliated. The only future he had to look forward to was whatever tortures they could concoct for him next. 

His only comforting thought was that he could still feel the Gauntlet’s presence in his personal space. Throughout the ordeal it had remained within his grasp, unseen. He had not completely failed. He was almost able to force a smile at this thought, and he allowed his feeling of accomplishment to fill him. This one shred of success awoke a determination in him that gave him light in this hellish darkness he fought through. As long as it was safely out of their reach, he would not give up.

'I will not go down without a fight. Not here,' he decided. 

XxX

But as the time passed the determination that Loki felt faded gradually with every day, every week, as the Chitauri fabricated new ways to torment him. The Gauntlet’s safety was still his only motivation (he had given up after a couple of weeks on Thor coming to his aid), though rather than a being a comforting thought it faded to more of an obsession. He would endure the tortures, thinking only about how the Gauntlet would be safe if he could endure just one more round. 

Loki’s punishment had become a game for them: do whatever they could to bring him to the brink of death until he was unconscious or else couldn’t respond with enough energy to entertain them anymore. They repeated the knife-and-poison tactic often, but soon found other methods when they grew tired of the same routine. 

The first “new” game was to use electric shocks during their interrogations. They chained to a metal chair that was bolted to the floor and jabbed at his sides and his head, sending electricity through him until it would burst right through his skin, sending blood spurting across the floor. Of course they spattered punches, hits, kicks, and spitting throughout the routine whenever they could find a window. 

One of their favorite games was to lock him in a small, closet-sized chamber, lined with shards of broken glass and blades whose tips contained a substance that would make him relive the worst memories of his life until he would scream or cry from his own self-induced anguish. Though it was less violent physically, they delighted in his child-like screams and tears and laughed at him as he humiliated himself. When he was no longer entertaining to them they would drag him to his cell and leave him. 

One day, after a round in the electric shock room, Loki leaned against the wall and pounded his fist against the wall out of anger and humiliation. He needed something to release it all on, and the wall was a worthy candidate. After a few minutes, he stopped, breathing heavily. His anger had started to ebb away when he heard a soft, almost shy-sounding knock from the other side. Loki’s eyes snapped to the wall and he stared as if it had just spoken to him. His heart pounding, he hesitantly knocked back, this time without the rage, and the knock was returned once again. 

There was another creature in there. So he wasn’t the only one there after all. 

And so it became a routine for him: after each round of punishment, once he had the strength, he would crawl over to the wall and knock, and the creature in the cell next to his would knock back. Sometimes, when he was lying on the floor, he would hear it, and return the gesture in kind. He learned that it didn’t matter how long it took for the other to respond, as long as they eventually did. The knocking became almost a source of comfort for him, as one prisoner would ask the other “Are you still there?” and the other would reply “Yes.” He wasn’t sure why but it almost seemed that the presence of another being gave him more strength to endure his torture, to know that someone else knew his suffering, a friend. And to his surprise, he actually cared about the being next to him.

But as suddenly as the routine began, it evaporated. Loki would knock after each round with the Chitauri, sometimes several times, but the knock was not returned. He held on to the hope that the creature in the next cell was still there, even after he sensed that several days had gone by (he didn’t have a sense of time anymore). 

Slowly, grudgingly, he accepted that he was once again the sole center of attention for the Chitauri’s cruelty, and resigned himself to being alone once again.

XxX

After another painful round, Loki laid down again on the floor of his cell, precisely in the same position they had dragged him in, looking up at the ceiling. It would be hours before Loki could even think to sit up or move. When he did finally bring himself to sit up, he leaned against the wall and brought his knees up to his chest. His thoughts consisted of his past sins (courtesy of the hallucinogens from the small chamber still dully coursing through him) or else different escape plans, ranging in varying degrees of feasibility, chasing each other around in his head. He allowed himself to think about what his next step would be, once he was outside of his prison, though he realized how small a chance he had of those thoughts coming to fruition. 

His head still ached from the drugs as he ran one hand through his matted hair. 'If I ever do escape from this place, he thought, I will never ally myself with them, or any of their allies, again…'

He had decided this shortly after his first round and repeated it to himself nearly every round thereafter. He hated his captors with a burning passion, with every fiber of his being, more than he had ever felt for Thor, or Odin, or anyone – anything – else. Even himself, as he came to realize just how repulsive a being he truly was; he hated the monster he had become. He truly was the bane of the Nine Realms’ existence. His thoughts drifted back to his words to Odin in the vault when he had first discovered his true ancestry: 'Because I'm the monster that parents tell their children about at night…'

'This is what your thirst for revenge has brought you,' he would berate himself. 'A life of pain and misery and for what? Your own twice-damned pride…'

His family hated him. Asgard hated him. Midgard hated him. Jotenheim certainly hated him. He had no true allies, save for Thor but he didn’t exactly seem reliable just now. Everyone he had once considered a friend he had betrayed. He could die here and no one would mourn for him this time. He felt as if he already had died. He was alone.  
The reality of those thoughts sank in deeper and more devastatingly than any wound he had thus received. Tears welled up in his eyes as he truly felt the effects of what he had just realized. He buried his head in his hands and didn’t bother to hold them back as they fell. After all, there was no one there to see. 

Not wishing to think about anything anymore, he lay back down and closed his eyes, inwardly hoping that it would be the last time he would do so…


End file.
